


all we do is think about the feelings that we hide (all we do is drive)

by darlininmyway



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, being in love with your best friend is amazing, fun in cars, ginny asks and mike can't say no, post-retirement mike is totally relaxed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlininmyway/pseuds/darlininmyway
Summary: Ginny asks Mike to teach her to drive.





	all we do is think about the feelings that we hide (all we do is drive)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HookedonCS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookedonCS/gifts).



> _My hands wrapped around your stick shift_  
>  _Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this_  
>  _My neck, the feeling of your soft lips_  
>  _Illuminated in the light, bouncing off the exit signs I missed_

**Lesson #1**

Ginny glanced over at Mike in the passenger’s seat of his SUV. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and pulled his already tight black shirt to nearly straining across his biceps.

His jaw moved slowly as he chewed a piece of spearmint gum. The sweet, soft scent filled the space between them, and the comforting familiarity helped settle some of Ginny’s anxiety as she placed her hands on the steering wheel.

She put them at ten and two as he'd instructed, but didn't move to do more than that. She stared blankly out of the windshield across the totally empty parking lot at Petco.

Mike popped his gum and waited, so still beside her, it'd be easy to forget he was even there if not for her own traitorous body’s reaction to his nearness.

It would be easier to blame her sweaty palms and elevated heartbeat solely on the idea of driving Mike’s enormous SUV, but that's only half of the equation.

Maybe three-quarters if she were being generous.

“Are you going to yell at me if I screw up your car?” she asked with another glance his way.

He turned to her with a frown. “I’m not going to yell at you, Baker.”

“You sometimes yell at me.”

“On the field or the clubhouse when you're not doing what you should be doing. Not here behind the wheel of a car.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

Mike grumbled and shifted in his seat as he turned back to face the windshield. “I've got nowhere to be, so this can take as long as you need it to, rookie.”

“Not a rookie,” she mumbled.

“Well, I'm not your Captain anymore either, but that hardly matters. Just try it, Baker. Aren't you tired of having other people drive you everywhere?”

Ginny shook her head. “Nope. I have enough money never to have to worry about it for which I'm eternally grateful. There's literally no need to do this.”

“Except you asked me to teach you.”

“Because I thought you'd show me first, not just throw me to the wolves!”

Mike laughed and his lips pulled up so hard that his cheeks apple.

“This isn't funny.”

“We're in the parking lot at Petco, not on the five. I'm hardly throwing you to the wolves.”

Ginny continued to frown as Mike chuckled beside her. “I hate you.”

“We both know that's not true.”

“Could be,” she replied and his laughter picked up once more. “Seriously. Stop laughing, Mike!” she said fighting back a smile at his joy.

“What if I mess up your car?”

He shrugged. “What good is owning a few dealerships if I can't get a new car whenever I want?”

“Mike, seriously—”

“Am I a good teacher or not, Baker?”

Her eyes met his for a moment. A spark of heat ignited deep in her gut at the look of total confidence and assurance in his gaze. She understood that look—spent three full seasons and one amazing postseason facing down that look from sixty feet away.

She nodded, then added her voice to it, “you are a good teacher.”

He smiled and Ginny fought too hard to keep a dreamy sigh at bay.

“Just go, Baker,” Mike crooned. “I promise I won't let anything happen to you.”

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Okay.” She gripped the steering wheel again and rechecked her seatbelt. “What do I do?”

“Well, you should turn on the car first.”

She nodded and pressed the button for the ignition. The truck rumbled to life beneath them, then settled into a quiet hum.

She looked over at him and raised a perfect eyebrow, waiting for her next command.

“Is your foot on the brake?” Mike asked.

She nodded, then double checked anyway.

“Okay,” he began. “Now put the gear in drive and ease your foot off the brake.”

Ginny struggled to move the gear shift from park to drive but finally managed to get it into the desired gear after a few minutes. She heard the tenor of the engine change, and the idle grow louder.

Still, the truck didn't move.

Mike glanced at her but didn't speak until she eased her foot from the pedal and Tahoe began to slowly creep across the asphalt.

“Now,” he started in a low tone as if speaking any louder might spook her. “Ease your foot onto the gas and gently press down.”

Ginny pressed down too hard on the gas and the SUV lurched forward.

She panicked and hit the brake, jostling them in the oversized vehicle.

“Sorry,” she breathed uneasily.

Mike shrugged and adjusted the angle of the passenger seat so it leaned even further away from the dash. “‘S’okay,” he replied with a smack of his gum. “Try again.”

“This is hopeless. I'm twenty-six. This is a skill you're supposed to pick up when your brain is still forming or whatever.”

“A,” Mike chuckled, “that couldn't be further from the truth. B, if twenty-six is old, just take me out back and shoot me, Baker.”

She moved the gear shift back to park and threw up her hands. “I don't think I can do this Mike. It...the thought of being behind a wheel by myself or in the car with someone else where I'm even more responsible, I just don't know.”

Her hands shook against the wheel and her chest began to rise and fall faster. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of tears threatening to fall.

She would not have a panic attack in front of Mike.

When Mike's hand slid over hers on the steering wheel, she forced out a breath and squeezed her eyes a little tighter.

“Breathe, Ginny.” His other hand fell gently on the back of her neck. He slid his fingers slowly beneath her ponytail and moved his thumb in small circles at the base of her skull. “Just breathe.”

“‘M sorry,” she said, her head still bowed over the wheel. “I don't think I can do this.”

Mike's hand trailed down her neck to her upper back. The heat and size and reassurance of his heavy palm against her made her shiver.

“If you don't want to,” Mike said in that same quiet voice she’s only ever heard him use with her. “You don't have to, but I know you want this or you wouldn't have asked me. And I happen to have it on good authority that there's nothing Ginny Baker can't do if she puts her mind to it.”

She raised her head and tilted a crooked smile at him. “Thanks, Mike.”

He shrugged again like it was no big deal, somehow understanding that was the precise reaction Ginny needed.

“Let's go again, rook.”

  

**Lesson #3**

“Can _you_ even parallel park this thing?” Ginny asked as she warily eyed the two bright orange cones Mike had placed in the parking lot.

The slight chill of the November air meant Southern Californians were wearing too many layers and unnecessary outerwear.

Ginny didn't mind, however, as it made Mike rely on his seemingly endless supply of well-fitted Henleys. The way they defined his chest and arms was unmatched, but the deep green color of the one he chose to wear for the day’s lesson also made the green of eyes stand out more than usual.

“Yes, but my parking skills aren't in question here. Yours are.”

“I've seen how you park in a regular space, Lawson. It leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Again, not my skills that are going to be put to the test.” He popped his gum and motioned with his hand for her to get going. “Remember what I told you.”

Her shoulders fell as she let out a sigh. “Can't we use your other car for this?”

“Nope.”

“But it's smaller.”

“Mhmm.”

“It would be easier.”

“It would be.”

“So...we can't use it because—”

“Because if you can learn to parallel park this thing, you can park anything. Now go. Quit stalling.”

Ginny huffed out a quiet “jackass,” and managed to resist hitting Mike in the arm as he laughed at her.

She put on her game face, double-checked her mirrors, and shifted the gear into reverse.

In theory, the backup camera should've made the process easier, but she still struggled with the idea of when and how severely to turn the wheel.

Her first attempt at parallel parking, she cut the wheel far too early and ran over both of the cones.

Mike ambled out of the car and motioned for her to pull forward. He set the cones back up and again took his time settling back in his seat beside her. The burst of cold and spearmint and Mike that hit her as he buckled himself in sent a pleasant chill down her spine.

“Try again,” he said in that same gentle tone that had started to feature prominently in her dreams.

The second attempt was just as bad the first.

The third, fourth, and fifth times she only knocked over the front cone.

She nailed it by the ninth try.

“Do it again,” Mike directed.

“I just did it perfectly twice in a row!” Ginny exclaimed.

“Okay, do it perfectly a third time.”

“You're exhausting.”

“You're welcome, Baker.”

**Lesson #6**

“This parking lot is full.” Ginny cast her eyes around the Whole Foods parking lot where Mike's SUV stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of tiny hybrids.

“It's not.”

Ginny pointed at the other vehicles. “Fuller than the Petco parking lot.”

“Yes.”

“I was doing great at Petco.”

“Mhmm,” Mike said. He looked over at her and smiled. “And you'll do great here.”

“I could hit a car here.”

“You could.”

“Or a person.”

“You're not going to hit a person.”

“Well, I'm glad your faith in me extends to that.”

“I have all the faith in the world in you, but hitting cars in parking lots is kind of a thing people do anyways. You'd very much be part of a noble tradition.”

Ginny grimaced and looked out of the driver’s side window to see how close the car next to her was. “Parking in an end spot for this lesson would've killed you?”

“It very well might have. Now, let's go. What are you going to do first?”

Ginny leaned forward to double-check the placement of the rearview mirror. She looked once more at the spaces beside to her, each one containing a different four-door hybrid, then put the gear shift in reverse.

“Just remember not to cut your wheel too early or you'll dent some hippy’s Prius,” Mike said.

Ginny scoffed. “And end up even more of an enemy of the people? No thanks.”

Ginny re-checked her rearview and side mirrors, and the backup camera—twice—before she slowly inched Mike’s Tahoe out of its slender spot.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she managed to get the truck out of the spot and into the aisle without a ding to it or any of the cars around it.

All went to plan until she realized she wedged herself into the lane.

“What now?” she looked askance at Mike.

“Remember that three-point turn I showed you? You're going to have to do that...although it may end up a five-point turn. This lane is really narrow,” he replied calmly as if cars hadn’t driven towards them from each direction, vying for the vacated spot.

“Okay. Okay. Sure.”

Ginny talked her way through the fundamentals of the three-point turn, just the way Mike had shown her the week prior–he’d made it look so simple.

(She managed to maneuver out of the spot in four turns.)

“Impressive, Baker.”

Ginny preened and drove slowly out of the lot. “Well, I've got a pretty great teacher.”

“You don't say?”

**Lesson #7**

“You can’t avoid the freeway forever.”

“Is that a challenge?

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Ginny sat, as ever, in the driver’s seat, disinclined to believe she needed to take this lesson onto the busy California highway aware that I-5, one of the most congested roads in the state, was also one of the most unavoidable.

That didn’t make the thought of driving on the multi-lane nightmare any more soothing.

“We’ll stay in the slow lanes once we've merged into traffic, get you acclimated to driving it, then we’ll work on passing people and switching lanes.”

“And you're positive I can't take access roads everywhere?”

Mike laughed. “I'm sure. How do you expect to get to my house from yours if you don't take the five?”

“Do what I've been doing—wait for you to come to get me or call a car.”

“You won't have to wait for either of those things once you learn to drive on the interstate.”

“Is that your way of inviting me over more?”

“Since when do you need an invitation to show up at my house?”

“I at least wait until you've announced you're making some new dish.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Start the car and let’s go, Baker. There are enchiladas waiting for you at Chez Lawson.”

“And dessert?”

“And flan for dessert.”

“You should've led with that, old man.”

**Lesson #9**

Mike parked under one of the floodlights in the Petco parking lot. Even with the stadium marginally lit, the parking lot felt darker than usual. Although Ginny couldn’t say for certain if she’d ever sat long enough in the empty lot at night.

He reached for the driver side door but stopped when Ginny's hand landed on his forearm.

“You okay?” Mike asked. He moved his hand from the door handle and placed it on top of hers.

Ginny shook her head. “Did you ever wonder why no one taught me to drive?”

“A little,” Mike replied. “Honestly I didn't even consider it until you asked me to teach you.”

“Hmm,” Ginny murmured. She turned her hand over beneath Mike’s and linked their fingers together. His big, rough, warm hand felt right against her own. She let her thumb brush across his knuckles.

“My dad thought anything I did that wasn't baseball was a waste of time. ‘I’m not going anywhere, little girl,” he’d say to me. ‘Concentrate on pitching.’”

Mike squeezed her hand and remained quiet.

“And I really thought he’d be there. Didn’t have any reason not to...but then a drunk driver hit him doing forty miles-per-hour and my stupid dad wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.”

When Ginny turned to face Mike, tears glistened her eyes. “I don’t remember the impact. I just remember crawling out of the car and seeing my father on...seeing him…”

Mike untangled their hands and pulled her close to him, nearly over the center console, wrapping her in the strong circle of his arms.

He rested his head on top of hers and whispered words comfort as he held her tight. “I’m so sorry.”

She nuzzled her face into the space between his neck and shoulder.

(She fit there perfectly.)

“I don’t think I like the idea of driving at night.”

“That’s fair,” Mike said. He wrapped an errant curl around one finger. “A lot of people don’t. We can do this another day if you’d like.”

“Or not at all?”

“Not an option.”

She sighed and did her best to ignore how Mike still hadn't let her go yet.

“Well, if you’re not going to let me quit, I might as well try it.”

“Just around the neighborhood. We’re not going to get on the five tonight.”

They sat for another few minutes, breathing in the quiet, wrapped in each other's embrace.

 

**Lesson #13**

The windshield wipers were on so high the front of the truck rattled along with the motion. Ginny turned them off and the world outside the car grew blurry again.

“It's coming down too heavy to see five feet in front of me,” Ginny said. They had expected the rain, but the turn towards torrential took them both by surprise.

“We can wait until it gets a little lighter,” Mike remarked. He pulled out two sticks of gum from his pocket and gave one to Ginny.

“Thanks.” She unwrapped the gum with a small sound of pleasure before she tossed the empty wrapper back at Mike.

“Nice,” Mike bit out with no real heat. “See if I share anything else with you.”

“Empty threat,” Ginny smirked.

Mike rolled his eyes and Ginny wondered—not for the first time—if they might permanently get stuck that way for how often he did it.

They sat in easy silence and listened to the ebbing fury of the storm.

The loud clang of Mike’s ringing phone interrupted the quiet.

He looked at the screen and frowned before he silenced it and put it back in the center console.

“Am I keeping you from anything?” Ginny asked though she didn’t really want to know if the answer was yes.

She'd seen that frown from Mike before during her second season on the Padres. During his return to Rachel and the devastating four months that they didn’t so much as look at one another.

“Nope,” he replied easily. He hit the button on the side of the passenger’s seat and reclined it until the headrest almost touched the backseat.

“A nap, now? Really?”

“We can't all be naturally good looking, Baker. Some of us require extra beauty-rest.”

Ginny snorted as Mike’s phone began to rattle once more in the console.

“Are you sure you don't need to get that?”

He held out his hand and Ginny placed his phone in his palm, barely resisting the urge to check the caller ID.

He shut the phone off completely and placed it into his back pocket. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

Ginny used the time to let her eyes wander over Mike’s body.

She started with the relaxed lines of his face and lingered on the slight downward turn of his lips. Traveled across the too lush eyelashes that sat atop his ruddy cheeks. Her fingers itched to touch his beard which now featured prominently in more than a few of her Mike related fantasies.

She breathed out a quiet sigh as her eyes continued their journey down his body. Another cozy Henley stretched across his broad chest and his biceps look even bigger than normal with his arms splayed behind his head.

The ripple of his belly, a little thicker now that he no longer played baseball, made Ginny's fingers twitch with the desire to memorize how it would feel beneath the pads of her fingers.

Choppy, uneven breaths filled the space as her gaze traveled down to his hips and thick, jean-clad thighs. She wondered if his knees ached from the long periods of sitting and the weather outside.

“You know you can ask me,” Mike’s voice made her jump and interrupted her voyeuristic view.

Her eyes met his and her breath caught in her throat at how his deep hazel gaze stirred her.

“Ask you what?” she questioned in a whisper. The air in the truck grew denser as the windows fogged with the temperature difference out and in.

“Anything,” Mike replied simply.

Ginny looked down at her hands in her lap. “Whose call are you ignoring?”

“My mother's.”

The relief that flooded Ginny at the knowledge was short-lived because she understood, maybe better than anyone, how fraught that relationship could be.

“How come?”

Mike moved restlessly beside her. His legs fell open and his upper body tensed. “She wants money. Some new, can't fail scheme. I don't want to deal with it right now. Besides, she'll get what she wants out of my business manager. She does this every couple of years. Tries to reconnect and make amends when really she just wants more money.”

“Are you going to give it to her?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

He turned his eyes back toward the roof of the truck. “Because I remember having nothing and helping her run small cons so we could eat dinner some nights. I have more than enough money.”

Ginny's eyes filled with tears. She took a deep breath to keep them from falling.

“You're a good man, Mike Lawson.”

He snorted derisively. “Yeah, I'm a real saint.”

“I absolutely didn't say that. Saints don't curse or frown as much as you do. Still, I stand by what I said: you're a good man.”

His head swiveled back towards her—his gaze darker than before igniting something primal deep in Ginny's gut.

“If you say so.” He stared at her for a long beat before he said, “is that all you want to ask me?”

Ginny shook her head. She didn't quite know what to ask or how. Or if she even should.

Mike shook his head and curled the edges of his mouth ever so slightly. “It's not raining so hard anymore. Want to try—”

“I don't want to lose you,” Ginny cut in. “If I ask you...if we talk about this, and if something goes wrong, I could lose you and that scares me more than driving down the 405 or this rain or getting hit by a 98 mile-per-hour fastball.

“But not talking about it and just wondering what could be, feels even worse because I like every part of being with you. I like that you're grumpy all the time and that you feed me. I like that I asked you to teach me how to drive and you did it without question. I like sitting and doing nothing with you. I want to keep doing nothing and everything with you.”

“I love you,” Mike said on a sigh. “I love you, so much Ginny Baker.”

She was up and over the center console, awkwardly crawling into his lap before she even realized she was moving.

He laughed and groaned as she shimmied up his body. Her hands landed on either side of his face and she kissed him with concentrated purpose through his laughter.

When her fingers threaded through his hair, Mike's laughter became a growl that rumbled through Ginny's chest.

Mike wrapped his arms around her back and held her tight as their mouths met, greedy and soft, sharp and tender.

His hands trailed up her back, beneath her shirt, warm and rough against her smooth skin. She tugged at his hair and reveled in the sounds he made against her lips.

“I love you, too,” she said against his mouth and almost instantly he was back to smiling too widely.

Their kisses turned sloppy and desperate. Ginny slid her hands down to his chest and tried her best to push his shirt up his torso so that she could get her hands on him, too.

Mike moved his lips from hers with a reluctant chuckle. “This will be much easier not in a car, Gin.”

“I missed this crucial part of growing up,” she spoke against his neck. She nipped at his ear before she pulled away to look down at his face.

He was flushed, hair wrecked from her fingers, beard askew from the fervor of their mouths and movements. The pure contentment on his face and his dark, hazy eyes led her to believe he didn't really mind.

She pushed back and sat up tall in his lap. His hands moved from her back to wrap around her hips.

“Always wanted to make out with someone in a car and never got the chance,” she said as she rocked her hip against his.

Mike's hands slid down to her ass. “I'm very glad I can fulfill that wish for you.”

“I've got a few others you can work on, too, if you're interested.”

The filthiest smile she'd ever seen lit up Mike's face and Ginny was unable to stop the shiver that coursed through her body.

“Drive us home, Gin.”

“Who's home?”

“Doesn't matter. If I'm there with you, it's home.”

She leaned back down and kissed him like it was the first time all over again.

They didn't leave the parking lot for another thirty minutes.

 

**Post-Lesson Assessment**

Ginny smoothly merged onto I-5 south towards San Diego. She checked her blind spot, turned on her blinker, and shifted flawlessly into a middle lane of traffic.

She briefly checked her rearview mirror and smiled at the sight of Gabe and Marcus bent over their phones.

“Are you guys gonna put those down every once in a while when we get to the zoo?”

“Yeah,” they said in unison.

“Can we see the big cats first?” Marcus asked.

“I want to see the otters first,” Gabe replied. “Big cats are dumb.”

“No they're not,” Marcus snipped back. “Otters are dumb. What do you think, Aunt Ginny?”

“Well,” Ginny began. “Since it's technically your Uncle Mike's birthday trip, I think we should let him pick.” She smiled and briefly glanced at Mike in the passenger's seat before she turned her attention back to the road. “What do you want to see first?”

Mike grinned and twisted to face the twins. “Sophie and I decided that we’re going to go see the pandas first. Isn't that right, sweetie?”

“Panda, dada.” A riot of brown curls bounced up and down as she agreed with Mike from her car seat next to Gabe. She shook her stuffed panda at him and giggled.

Ginny glanced at their daughter in the rearview mirror for a few seconds and grinned at the dimples so clearly on display for Mike.

“Pandas are cool,” Gabe shrugged, trying to maintain an air of teenage indifference.

“Panda! Panda!” Sophie chanted and held out her stuffed panda to her father.

“For me?” Mike smiled as he reached for the stuffed bear. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Welcome, dada.” Her gummy smile made Mike laugh and in turn, made Sophie laugh harder.

Mike placed the panda on the center console facing Sophie and the twins before he turned to his wife, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our first stop is going to be pandas, Mrs. Lawson. That okay by you?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Baker.”

Mike chuckled. He rested a hand on her thigh and smiled when she took one hand off the steering wheel and threaded her fingers through his.

He brought their linked hands to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers before he unraveled their hands.

“So,” Mike said turning once more to the occupants in the back seat, “what else do we have to see today?”

Gabe and Marcus started to list off other attractions while Sophie chimed in with random words at varying volumes.

Ginny sighed, content as she drove down the road beside the man who taught her how to appreciate the journey, in a car filled to the brim with love.

_FIN_


End file.
